Remember Me
by AnglophileConfessions
Summary: Stiles tells Lydia to remember. She tries to hold onto her memories, tries to hold on to his name, but in the end something's always missing.


_Remember (noun): have in or be able to bring to one's mind an awareness of (someone or something that one has seen, known, or experienced in the past)._

 _Remember._

This word rolls around in Lydia's head.

 _Remember._

Lydia has always had an excellent memory. She can remember algorithms and theorems. She can remember how many DNA molecules make up the human genome. She can list off every element from the periodic table.

She can remember what it's like to watch her father walk out the door and leave her without a backward glance.

The way her Grandmother's perfume smelled.

The feeling of her mother combing out her hair before bed at night.

The feeling of Malia's hair slipping through her fingers as she braided it.

Allison's callused fingers and dimpled cheeks.

Scott's contagious grin.

She remembers…

Something is missing from Lydia's life. Something that's left a gaping, empty, black hole in its wake. No. Not it. His . There is a hole where he should be. Whoever he is, wherever he's gone, she wishes he'd come back and remind her what life is supposed to be like. Because Lydia has forgotten what it is to be whole.

 _Remember..._

He's all fumbling hands, awkward smiles and apologies as they dance. His hands gently grip her waist as they sway. The music slows and she allows someone to hold her. For once, Lydia lets someone carry her for a little while. Not to preserve his pride, but because she wants to be carried for tonight. He smells fresh, like toothpaste and the pads of his fingers are softer than she thought they'd be when she grasps his hand. Lydia leans into him and counts the moles dotting his cheek and neck, wondering where else he has them, refraining from connecting them like constellations across a milky sky. His breath is warm against her neck and cheek. She feels safe and comfortable. She feels beautiful and wanted. When she pulls away and their eyes meet she can feel his disappointment, but not his pain. Lydia walks away to look for Jackson and it feels like she left something behind.

 _Remember…_

His hair is still buzzed, but he's much taller than he was in middle school. A growth spurt has transformed him into the gangly teenager before her. His sneakers are a sterile white and the button up shirt he's wearing over his t-shirt is too big for him. He's talking to Scott, his hands waving around. Raw energy flies from his fingertips until he's in front of Lydia and stops cold. His eyes are a warm whiskey color and but she tries not to get distracted when they're lab partners in science. Lydia knows he can see her, really see her and it makes her squirm. No one's ever looked at her like that before. He says her name in the hallways, but she pretends not to hear, taking in the sculpted body of another Freshman who suits her image. She hates herself for the smallest moment, wishing she weren't so shallow.

 _Remember…_

Sophomore year comes around and Lydia's more established in the social hierarchy now. There is place for her within the ranks of athletes and rich, pretty girls. The gangly boy of Freshman year is still gangly, but less so. Lacrosse has hardened the muscles in his arms and chest. His hair is still closely cropped as always. His smile is contagiously bright. Lydia's sitting in the cafeteria next to Jackson, watching Scott and the boy talk and laugh. She knows that he thinks she doesn't notice him, but she does. Lydia notices the way he acts around her, notices how loyal he is to Scott, how kind he is to Allison, the new girl in school. She notices the looks he gives her when she pretends not to know the answers to questions in class. There's disappointment there, like he's sad that she doesn't want to realize her own potential in front of her peers. Lydia gets A's on all of her papers, but hides her satisfied smiles. He sees them.

 _Remember…_

Junior year allows Lydia's lungs to expand with the fresh air of new horizons. No longer tied to a guy that desperately wanted to squash the independence out of her. No longer tied to her father, constantly grading her on every aspect of her life. Her summer is composed of late nights reading and early mornings running. She runs until she feels like her feet are going to leave the ground. Lydia wants to take flight. When Allison returns from France Lydia's days and nights consist of Allison's smiles and warmth. When Lydia sees the gangly boy of 17 in the car next to her, her heart rises into her throat. He makes her nervous in the best way. He is always so kind to her. He allows her to speak and truly listens. He has a wealth of respect for her. She's attracted to his sense of humor and sarcastic wit. His hands are warm and reassuring on her back. When he winks, she smiles. His voice is her advocate, her solace, her comfort. His lips are gentle and warm and wet. Her tongue tastes the inside of his mouth and she feels something curling up inside her, making a home there.

 _Remember..._

 _Love (noun): an intense feeling of deep affection._

 _Remember, I love you._

The gangly little boy. The one who's loved Lydia since they were 8 years old. The boy who seems to know her inside and out. The boy that Lydia Martin is in love with. His name is Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.

The doors are cool to the touch as Lydia enters Beacon Hills High. It's like any other day. The hallways are busy and packed. But, something is missing. Something isn't right and it's driving Lydia crazy.

 _Remember._

 _Remember._

 _Remember._

It's not a something that's missing. It's a someone.

Someone is missing and Lydia doesn't know who or why, but the feeling leaves her empty and cold. She hates it, god she hates it. It's like an itch just out of reach, a word at the tip of her tongue, a memory at the edges of her mind.

Whoever is missing…

Lydia loves him.


End file.
